p • r • e • s • s • u • r • e

a blue coat and a pep talk

The engineer gulps.

"It's a work knife."

"It had blood on it. What about the needles? The bandages?"

Tony holds back tears.

"I'm going to bed." He leaves his bowl on the coffee table and strides breezily upstairs.

He found out he found out he found out

Why do I keep fucking things up?

Why am I freaking out?

It's really not a big deal

I have other stashes

I know I have other stashes

I'm safe

I have backup

So why am I freaking out?

The man shuts the door softly and paces around his bedroom, just breathing.

Shit.

I can't believe I keep fucking things up...

Tony's mind is swirling, and he dashes inside his closet, locking the door.

Blue coat, blue coat, blue coat...

He fumbles through his wardrobe and pulls a few silver thumbtacks out of the pocket of his teal blue coat.

They glint evilly at him, and he smirks back. He knew what was about to happen. Only this time, he didn't feel in control, oddly. Panting, the man sinks against the wall, lifting up his shirt.

Tony just sits there against his closet door for a few minutes, lost in time.

He closes his eyes and pokes his skin with the pointy thumbtack, piercing the skin. He'd sliced up the needle of it to perforate it, so it'd be harder to push in. He almost regrets it now.

Tony whimpers, remembering how surprisingly painful this is. Trying to relax his abdominal muscles. Pushing it in deeper. His body begs him to stop.

This really, really hurts. More than it used to. I deserve this.

"I..deserve this," he mutters, stabbing the rest of it into his flesh and moaning in pain.

"Why...why does it always hurt so much?" he whispers to himself.

After doing this four more times and staring listlessly at the ceiling, he gets up shakily and thanks the blue coat for its gift. He slides on a zip-up sweatshirt with a ridiculous amount of difficulty and shaky legs carry him to bed where he curls up in a ball, hoping he might disappear. Not forever, just for a little while. The thumbtacks dig into the muscle of his abdomen as he tries to curl up into a tighter ball, his knees pressing into the arc reactor. Before he can tell JARVIS to turn the lights out, he hears footsteps in the hallway and his door opens.

"Hey, Tony?"

Bruce's voice is cautious and apologetic as he shuts the door with a soft thump. He walks over and sits down on the bed; Tony can feel the mattress dip. The engineer turns to face him.

"Hi."

"Yeah, hi. Listen, I'm sorry for...for getting upset with you. And...y'know. Being so confrontational. And going through your stuff, and...I'm just sorry."

Tony nods.

"I'm sorry for storming out like that."

"It's okay. Leftovers aren't that great anyway."